


Starved.

by NadziejaEwelina0011



Category: Diabolik Lovers, Diabolik Lovers - Oota (Tokyo) RPF
Genre: Abusive Past, Angst, Angst and Porn, Angst and Tragedy, Bad Parenting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood Loss, Blood and mild violence, Creampie, Cum Inside, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Impregnation, Laito is a fuckboy, Love/Hate, Penetration, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pool Table Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Reader was an abused child, Rough Sex, Sad, Self-Hatred, Sex, Sexual Addiction, Sexual Intercourse, Smut, Subaru is in love with the Reader, Table Sex, Table fucking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Romance, Unrequited Love, Violent Sex, Yandere, Yandere Laito - Freeform, Yandere laito sakamaki, addiction to sex (mentioned), angsty porn, child abuse mentions, dark themes, dependancy, fucking on a table, mild impregnation kink, much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:55:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29988033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadziejaEwelina0011/pseuds/NadziejaEwelina0011
Summary: Y/N grew up in tragedy, devoid of the comforts a child requires - throughout her life, she struggled with affection. Now that she has finally found someone who is willing to give her the love she has missed out on, she doesn’t want to let it goComments always appreciated! <3
Relationships: Sakamaki Laito/Reader, Sakamaki Subaru/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Starved.

TW: Mention of past child abuse, mention of past emotional manipulation, mention of “cheating”/non-committal relationship between reader and Laito, unhealthy relationships, ANGSTY PORN, Unrequited love (Subaru x Reader but it’s one-sided), mentions of misogyny, BLOOD KINK, impregnation kink (mild), generally fucked up themes.  
. 

Biting down on your lips as you haphazardly laid on the loveseat in the parlour of the Sakamaki manor, a lovelorn sigh escaped your plump lips, sorrow filling your entire being. You knew this feeling far too well; you were lonely. 

The stunning baroque windows allowed the cold breeze of the evening to flow into the room, goosebumps gathering on your skin, a physical ailment symbolic of your emotional melancholy.  
With a breathless sigh, you stood from your sullen pose, sitting up with your hands on your lap. You didn’t want to be alone right now, you couldn’t be alone right now.  
You were fine if there were other people with you, having company kept the memories at bay - being all alone only increased your strife, the cruelty of your family repeating in your mind over and over and over and over-  
You shook your head, hand clenching to the fabric of your dress, burning tears threatening to spill.  
Your loneliness consumed you, the darkness surrounded you as tiny sobs filled the room.  
Firmly, you choked them back, refusing to give your past abusers the spiritual satisfaction of your tears; not anymore.  
Their words and unkind phrases whispered in your ears but you refused to listen.  
But you couldn’t be alone right now. 

The brothers all tended to keep to themselves, though the triplets would occasionally spend some time together and it was one particular triplet you were searching for as you wiped your woes away, inhaling and setting off down the countless corridors. 

Laito.  
You needed Laito - here, right now, to just...be with you. 

You couldn’t be alone. You couldn’t be alone.  
You couldn’t be alone.

Perhaps you could have gone to any other brother, but you did not want them, you...you needed him. He was frustrating, irritating and impossible; and yet somehow, by some miracle, he had carved his name into your heart and as much as you had fought against your vehement emotions you no longer could conceal the immense passion that led you to him. 

He was a casanova, he was a bastardly piece of shit and he drew you to him like a moth to a deadly flame. And now, in your hour of lonely darkness - it was his presence you required. 

No one else but him and him alone. 

And you hated that you loved him.  
He caused you grief and strife and sorrow - but he caused you pleasures untold and made you addicted to him. His scent, those excellent forest eyes that cut into your empty soul, those auburn locks that resembled the infernos of passion’s hell…  
You needed him.  
He caused you so much pain but you wanted him.  
And at the end of the day you knew that he would never - could never - be yours alone. Not like you knew you belonged to him, heart and soul. He was an untameable spirit, a lost soul who couldn’t be kept tied down in such commitment.  
Yet you loved him anyway. 

He liked causing you pain, his sadistic tendencies getting the best of him. They always did, in the end. You wished you could know what he was thinking, what he was feeling - was he in love with you? Did he even care about you? 

Even if he didn’t, even if you really were just a toy - a bitch for him to fuck - you would take it. You would take it with a prideful stride, so pathetically and wholly his.  
Because despite everything that happened to you in your life, and the tragedy of your childhood - he was there when you needed him to be, despite all his massive flaws he never failed you.  
He was your last hold to sanity.  
You couldn’t lose him. It would kill you. 

Your bones felt fragile as you searched the house for a single trace of him, even if...even if his scent wasn’t his own; even if you found him coming right through the front door, hair a mess, body sweaty and eyes wild with satisfaction not provided by you.  
Tears welled in your eyes and you cast them away, fingers wiping them away. You needed to get ahold of yourself, you couldn’t fall apart. You weren’t going to let your past win.  
But in order to be strong, you had to have him here. 

Laito was your strength. 

“(Y/N)?”  
Your breath hitched in your throat as you turned around to see crimson eyes staring back at you.  
Subaru.  
You smiled weakly, “Hi.”  
He observed you, eyebrow raised as he noticed your delicate composure. He knew that look. You were close to falling apart and an instinctual urge in him cried out for him to throw his arms around you; to pull you close and never let go. He wanted to be the one you craved, he wanted you to come to him when you were like this - to beg him to stay with you as you cried because the memories and trauma of your past caught up with you.  
But he kept his distance, just as he always did.  
Because he was never going to be the one you wanted - how could you want him? It was nothing more than a fantasy that could never come true because he was unlovable, he couldn’t blame you for not wanting to be near him, for not wanting him as he wanted you. 

He was a monster. 

Regardless, he cared about you so much it stung the little pride he truly had, but he hated seeing you like this, so downcast and more frail than a butterfly.  
Usually you were so strong, he admired you for it; you generally knew what you wanted and didn’t hold back - you spoke your mind when you felt like it, but he also knew that you had weaknesses like anyone else, and it reminded him why you were brave and he was a coward;

He was too afraid to show his vulnerabilities. You weren’t. 

And it was yet another reason why he’d never have you. He was unworthy.  
But fuck, it set his heart on fire in the worst of ways - watching the woman he was so hopelessly in love with be in love with his brother, undeserving and cruel. He supposed he wasn’t any better, Subaru was well-aware of the fact he was a brute, violent and aggressive.  
But he loved you.  
And he would sooner die than let you know that.  
“Are you-”  
“I’m fine,” You responded before he could finish, restless in your movements, messily playing with your hair. You always did that when you were lying; he’d noticed it before.  
He noticed so much about you and you never even knew because you never bothered to turn his way in kind. 

And his chest tightened as he realised that it wasn’t his support you wanted right now, it was Laito’s.  
Never his, always Laito’s. 

Always Laito. 

He was the forgotten, unloved brother. The final child. The failure.  
Not even good enough for his own mother-  
He snapped himself out of his mental pity party, this wasn’t about him, it was about you. 

“You’re not,” He retorted, tone strict, the words escaping him before he could really acknowledge them, “You can..” he paused, not sure what to say, throat aflame, “...I mean, you can...talk about things if you want-” He cringed at his own statement; he was fucking awful at this ‘emotional’ shit, but...you needed it.  
And he wanted to be there for you, he wanted you to burst into tears in front of him - run into his arms and wrap your arms around him. He wanted you to want him.  
He just wanted you to love him. 

He was too broken, even for you.  
I love you, he wanted to cry out, but he bit his tongue.  
You blinked at him, unsure what to say - he knew he wasn’t exactly the most friendly of people, but you meant so much more to him than you would ever know.  
His white rose, never to be possessed in his rough hand, and it made him feel insane.  
“...Thank you,” You smiled, but your eyes showed your true insecurities and the fact you were about to crumble into a breakdown.  
“...”  
There was a terrible silence in the hallway, the moonlight illuminated you beautifully. Angelically.

You were the closest thing to heaven he would ever get to witness.  
His jealousy cried that he should just take you for himself, but he wasn’t so selfish as to do that. As much as his envy for Laito reigned his heart, the care he had for you was superior.  
“He’s in the lounge.”  
And with that, his footsteps sounded through the hallway as he walked away, just like he always did, knowing you were going to run into Laito’s arms.  
Laito was the only one who ever got to see you cry. Subaru’s hands became tight fists as he walked, each step he took felt like his legs were made of lead, wanting nothing more than to turn around and reveal his feelings but he knew it was useless, besides - he didn’t know where he’d even begin. 

You were too good for Laito, but you were far too good for him, too.  
No one deserved you.  
Especially not him. 

(E/C) eyes widening, you bit down on your lip as you watched him go, grateful to him as you turned, picking up your skirts and running through the moonlit corridors to reach the game room, praying that Laito was alone and not with Ayato nor Kanato, you just...needed time alone with him, to feel his skin on yours. 

Bursting into the lounge, you noticed him practising his skills on the pool table, distracted when you made your unexpected entrance. His stare of confusion morphed into that of understanding and then, that damn smirk of knowing. He knew what was about to happen because it always went down this way.  
Always, always, always.  
You hated him so fucking much.  
You loved him so fucking much. 

“Ah, if it isn’t my little Bitch-Chan.”  
“Shut the fuck up-” the choked words left your lips before you could comprehend them, tears returning. He put the pool stick down, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table, emerald eyes locking with your (e/c) eyes, an endless stare that laid all your cards on the table. His stare undressed you, not only of your physical clothing but he stripped you of your lies, of your defences and facades.  
He left you completely naked in every sense of the word.  
And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A moment passed, and then another. And you ran at him, ran to him - like a crazed maenad on the sacred festival of Dionysia, those bitter tears finally freeing themselves from the cage of your glassy eyes, rolling down your face.  
He happily accommodated you in his arms, pulling you closer into his chest as you sobbed, legs giving out as he held you steady, picking you up and placing you on the table, skirt flaying out idyllically.  
You looked most stunning like this, when you were the personification of emotion, flowing dress on your graceful body, tears pouring down your soft cheeks and sobs falling from your throat.  
He loved you most when you were a mess in his hands.  
“Sssh,” He comforted you. He always knew how to, his lips creeping to your ear, the husky warmth sending sensual shivers down your spine as you clung to him as though your life depended on it, because as far as you knew, it may have.  
For a moment he just...held you like you wanted to be held, like a fragile little doll.  
But then his fangs brushed against your tender neck, tongue swaying across your flesh as he nipped at your skin, kissing and slightly biting, leaving more marks of his ownership over you.  
Moans fell from you and filled the room, heat spreading through your body as your core churned, body crying out for him. He knew your body better than you knew it.  
“Laito,” You breathed out, eyes teary as you pulled away from him to look him in the eyes.  
He smirked at you, “Bitch-chan,”  
You winced, looking away.  
With some hesitation, he let out a frustrated sigh.  
“...(Y/N),” He corrected himself, regaining your favour as you sobbed out his name again, over and over, feeling his hands fiddle with your evening gown, icy hands on your warm thighs, temperatures contrasting and sending you wild.  
You gripped onto his shirt, crinkling it, then desperately beginning to unbutton it as he filled your neck and jawline with lovebites, his hands pushing your skirt up, revealing your cunt, the fabric of your panties beginning to stain with your wetness with every movement he made, playing your body like an instrument he was a prodigy in. 

Your arms ended up in his dishevelled hair after you freed his chest from the confinements of the crinkled shirt, the white blouse now loosely hanging off his arms as you began to devour each other, lips on lips, tongues fighting that eternal lovers’ war which poets of old have sung and written about for millennia.  
His groans and your sweet sounds combined and bounced off the walls, skin on skin, eyes lustfully staring at each other, unable to pull away in your bestial frenzy of arousal.  
His hands toyed with your soaked pussy, middle finger pressing into your clit, stimulating you further as he circled around it ceaselessly, making you cry out in desire, pulling on those gorgeous, soft ginger tresses of his, a moan shaking out of him, his grip on your cunt and thighs tightening to a point you knew it would bruise. 

You welcomed it with glee.  
Anything that reminded you that you belonged to him. 

“I-” you breathed out, “I need you,” You cried out, panties beyond flooded, “I need you! I need you inside me, I need you to-”  
“What do you need me to do, little whore?”  
“I,”  
“Yes?” He growled into your ear, voice smug.  
“I need you to fuck me! Fuck me until I can’t think! I don’t want to think anymore, Laito, please, please please just fuck the sadness out of me-”  
Before you could continue your pitiful pleading he violently cut you off, lips crashing into yours as he practically mauled you, tearing the top of the dress down to reveal your nude breasts, bouncing at the action.  
Fuck, you were so perfect for him. He loved you like this, a sexually-deprived whore for him. And him alone. He took much satisfaction in the fact that you were his bitch and no one else’s, he was well-aware of the fact that Subaru was evidently in love with you - it was pathetic, really. The thought sent him feral as he bruised your lips, jaw, neck, anything he could to claim you. 

Once he pulled away, his eyes narrowed darkly, a string of saliva connecting the two of you as he pushed you down onto the pool table, spreading your legs and pushing your panties aside, the glistening of your pussy shining in the dim light of the glorious moon.  
His name spilled from your lips endlessly, as if it was the only word you knew.  
And fuck, he loved every second of it, the attention you gave him was delicious and he never failed to drink it all up.  
He knew his charms, he was a self-admitted sexual deviant and it typically worked out in his favour, women flocked to him and he could get any woman he wanted. And you knew that - and it brought him much joy to see the fear in your eyes whenever he came home smelling like some cheap whore - it proved to him that you loved him and he felt like he was on cloud nine knowing that he could do whatever he wanted to you, physically or mentally, and you wouldn’t leave him. You wouldn’t dare.  
His teeth snapped into your neck, blood flowing through your veins onto his lips, as you screamed out in agony-laced pleasure, feeling his fangs sucking the life out of you. He was going to be the death of you and you’d happily accept your fate at his hands. 

But you fucking hated him and yourself for this weakness, for this infatuated obsession with him that forbade you from moving on and cutting off this sick, unhealthy relationship. You were aware, at least, that this was fucked and perhaps you deserved better but you didn’t want better. You wanted him.

Ecstacy filled you and pushed the thoughts out of your mind as the blood flowed out of your body, becoming limp in his embrace, his hardened dick pushing against you - you couldn’t even recall when he’d gotten his dick out, but you weren’t complaining.  
Metallic crimson dripped down your neck and onto your collarbones as he pulled his lips away, licking down your skin as to not waste a single drop, the loss of blood and horrific scent making you dizzy and light-headed.  
He thrust into you, filling you completely all at once, using you to his pleasure like some sort of mortal sex doll.  
If you held any sanity left, you knew you wouldn’t have allowed him to treat you so poorly, but he slithered his way into your heart and now he was a part of you; you never wanted to be without him. You were willing to get hurt for eternity as long as he always returned to you. 

His lewd breaths in your ear and the sensation of his harsh, unforgiving thrusts drove you to absolute, undeniable heaven, you were certain everyone in the manor could hear your pleased shrieks of rapture as he fucked you into hell, heaven and back, his hips snapping into yours, the blood still dripping from the small wound on your neck staining the soft dress you wore and the green pool table, tainting it with your vermillion shade and pussy juices. 

He was the only one who could fuck you this good, who could make the pain go away. Sex with Laito made everything better, your thoughts and memories couldn’t catch you when he was with you. He was your salvation.  
The only one who could save you from yourself. 

“Who do you fucking belong to?”  
“You!” You sobbed, body and mind wrecked by his cock driving into you, hitting your sweet spot mercilessly, so fucked out of your mind that you were brought to tears, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head - Laito was a fucked up, terrible individual but he was a sex god, bringing you to your knees every single time no matter how much you tried to deny the power he had over you.  
“Scream it out loud, pretty little slut,”  
“LAITO!” The tears flooded your face, saliva and salty tears mixing, your orgasm incoming, “I BELONG TO YOU! LAITO! LAITO! LAITO- Oh fuck-” Your cunt tightened around him to an extraordinary level, milking him for all his worth, squirting all over his dick as he plowed into you, pace losing its rhythm as his breaths became more jagged, but you knew his stamina well know to know he wasn’t about to cum anytime soon, fucking you into that forsaken pool table for at least another forty minutes and three more orgasms before his first release, spilling his warmth inside you, filling you with biological happiness at the feeling, your womb pleased to have the seed of the man you loved so intently inside of it.  
“I love you!” You screamed, nails gripping his back, scratching it up like a hellish banshee. He was going to wear those marks with repletion.  
Those words were melodious and he revelled in them; he knew you loved him, you’d do anything for him, after all. 

And he wouldn’t change a thing.  
You were his lovely little bitch, after all.  
“I hope you realise this was only round one,” He laughed mockingly at the sight of your fucked-out face, tired and sexually satisfied. 

Yes, Laito believed you were most beautiful just like this.  
All his.


End file.
